The Last of the Jedi
by Ruuger
Summary: Killer in Me as seen from the other side.


THE LAST OF THE JEDI 

Riley let the cursor hover on the 'delete' button for a few seconds before clicking 'play' again.

_Ummm... could I speak to Agent Finn? Finn, Riley Finn. Tell him we're having a problem with Spike's chip. No, his chip. Spike. No, no, Finn is his last name._

Riley closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the ceiling fan whirring lazily over his head, the quiet whupwhupwhup of the blades marking time like a metronome. Ten more rotations and then he would click stop. Ten, and no more.

He stopped counting when he reached eleven.

There was something Sam had once said, laughing and drunk,

_("Riley, Riley, Riley... you know, if you say it enough times, it stops making sense")_

that if you said a word four times in a row, it stopped meaning anything, and if you said it for the fifth time, it stopped existing altogether.

_("I'm gonna shut up, now, soldier, 'cause I wanna keep you to myself")_

He tapped his finger on the mouse button; wondered how many times would he have to listen to the recording to make it not exist.

Four times already, and it was all still there. The uninvited smile that crept onto his lips every time he heard the whisper of her hesitating breath when the tape started, then the heavy knot in his gut when she mentioned Ithat/I name, unearthing the memories of seeing her lying naked next to that... thing.

He could feel a burning itch building behind the scars in the crook of his arm, but he ignored it.

Not the same thing.

Riley leaned back in his chair and concentrated on her voice again, but there was something at the back of his mind, an old memory that her voice had dislodged that was now floating towards the surface.

_Oh, is this actually a flower shop, or is this one of those things where I'm supposed to play along to show that I know it's really secret ops? Oh, maybe I shouldn't have said that. Oh, okay, right. Well, if some guy named Finn shows up to buy flowers? Yeah. Thanks._

Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope.

In his mind's eye he could see them, Best Friends Forever, Riley and Bobby and Angela; standing on the large rock looking over the golden sea of corn that seemed to reach all the way until the edge of the world.

He could almost smell the intoxicating scent of the tall grass in the heart of summer, could almost hear the distant rumble of the harvesters and the quiet echo of the church bells that they were pretending not to hear.

Sticks became lightsabers, corn stalks vast armies of enemy soldiers, and the cave where there lived a monster that had once eaten a little girl (they knew, because the older kids had said so) became the dwelling of the terrifying Sarlacc.

And in the distance the church bells tolled, calling them home.

_(D'you think it goes all the way to the other side of the world, Rile? All the way through hell?)_

Then one day near the end of the summer Bobby walked into the mouth of the Sarlacc and didn't come back. Years later, just months after he had been drafted to the Initiative, Riley took a team to the old caves and they captured and killed the Gnarl living there.

He wondered how many children Spike had killed, wondered if any of them had been called Bobby.

He clicked play again.

_Ummm... could I speak to Agent Finn? Finn, Riley Finn. Tell him we're having a problem with Spike's chip. _

He'd been waiting for this day ever since he'd heard that the behaviour modification chip of one of the HSTs still imprisoned in Maggie Walsh's original laboratories in Roswell had began to deteriorate. The news had reached him through the grapevine all the way to Venezuela, and even though the HST had been already dead by the time his transfer had gone through, he had used his contacts to be present at the autopsy.

According to the techies, it had taken the demon almost two weeks to die.

_Well, if some guy named Finn shows up to buy flowers? Yeah. Thanks._

He started the recording again, but then paused it before she had finished the first word and selected 'delete' instead.

The Initiative changed their contact number every few months; it was pure chance that Communications had even bothered to relay the recording to Riley from the old number. There was nothing but a flowershop there now. She would never even know if he had received the message.

These aren't the droids you're looking for.

He counted fifty more rotations of the ceiling fan before leaving the office.

--

He found Agent Collins in the rec room watching football on television and knocked on the doorframe to catch the other man's attention.

As he entered the room, the words 'Mind if I join you?' briefly flitted on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them down. "Do we have any special teams available at the moment?"

Collins nodded. "Doctor Walters and his team just came back from Siberia, sir."

"Good. I was just going through the files and noticed that the demolition of the Sunnydale complex was never actually put into action. So if you could take a few men and a clean-up team and have the place sealed up. Check the premises and fill it with concrete, whatever it takes." Sow the ground with salt, he wanted to add, but didn't.

Collins hesitated, putting down the coffee mug he was holding. "Sure you don't want to go yourself, I mean, you are the expert on-"

"I'd prefer not to. Too many memories in that place."

Collins' eyes wandered to the wall behind Riley, and the pictures and names of the soldiers fallen in action decorating it. Riley didn't need to look to know that seventeen of the names on that wall belonged to men who had not returned from Sunnydale.

"Understood, sir. Do you want me to prep the team right away?"

"Yes, the sooner the better."

Riley made it all the way back to the door before turning around. "Michael?"

Collings gave him a confused frown. "Sir?"

Riley could feel his scars itching again, burning from the inside like he was just seconds away from turning into ashes, but he ignored it; ignored the memories of the screams and the moans and the sound of Bobby laughing when he walked into the cave.

All he had to do was to just walk away. It wouldn't be a murder if he did.

"Sir? Is everything all right?"

Running his hand wearily across his face, Riley returned to the rec room and sat down on the chair next to Collins. Sometimes he wished he didn't always have to be one of the good guys.

"While you're in Sunnydale, I need you to do me a favor."


End file.
